“All the more reason to get back on the horse.”
She watched as we talked, looking like she had a front-row seat at the most fascinating tennis match of the century.
“Cut the pissing contest, boys.” An older female EMT walked right between me and Jared, pushing us out of the way before kneeling in front of the woman I’d rescued. “Let’s check your head, hon.” She held up a small light. “Follow this for me.”
She followed it. Then her eyes drifted slightly. Caught herself. Followed it again.
I watched and didn’t like what I saw.
“Any headache?” the EMT asked.
“A little.” Amy’s tone was carefully casual. The way people spoke when they were downplaying something. “More like a, um, fuzziness.”
“Nausea?”
“Define nausea.”
“Amy.” Her name came out low and rough.
She looked at me, apparently surprised I’d used her name. I was surprised too. “Maybe a little nausea,” she admitted. “But that could be the shoe loss. It was very traumatic.”
The EMT sat back and looked at Jared and me in turn. “She’s showing signs of a mild concussion. She needs to be monitored tonight. No sleeping unattended, someone needs to wake her every two hours through the night, watch for worsening headache, confusion, vomiting.”
“I’m fine,” Amy protested.
“You just told me everything’s fuzzy,” the EMT said pleasantly. “Fine is relative.”
Amy sighed dramatically. “Everyone’s acting like I got swept over Niagara Falls.”
“She didn’t come with anyone,” Jared said, cutting in with a smile on his face. “Booked solo.”
“Well, I’m not going to the hospital.” She looked at Jared. “You can take me to the lodge.”
Jared turned and looked at me. “Come on, help a girl out.”
“I’m not a damn bed and breakfast.”
“Never said you were. Help her out anyway.”
“I’m about three seconds from throwing you in the river, Jared.”
Jared grinned. “I know. But you’ll do it anyway.”
Amy tilted her head back farther to look up at me. Tiny. Not fragile exactly. But soft in ways a smarter man would have walked away from.
Mine.
The thought came hard and absolute.
My entire body went still.
No. Absolutely not. I didn’t do that anymore. Didn’t claim things. Didn’t keep people. Didn’t need anyone waiting for me at home.
The mountain was enough.
Except standing here looking at this soaking wet woman smiling up at me like I hung the damn moon—it didn’t feel like enough at all.
“So, I am staying with Bigfoot?” She looked at Jared again.